Devotion
by Under A Cloud
Summary: She was an aspiring art student, and he was the 'Child of God'. The starting of their story wasn't fantastic; neither was their ending. "I think devotion is called 'devotion' because you dedicate yourself fully and whole-heartedly to only one thing." (YukimuraOC)


The romantic (?) take to 'Palette', which will be published on Yukimura's birthday :)

Summary: She was an aspiring art student, and he was the 'Child of God'. The starting of their story wasn't fantastic; neither was their ending. "I think devotion is called 'devotion' because you dedicate yourself fully and whole-heartedly to only one thing." (YukimuraOC)

Disclaimer: I don't own PoT.

**Devotion**

She didn't like him. Yet the hatred wasn't mutual because _well_, she was just one of the many students of Rikkai Dai who knew the 'Child of God' – for her, fortunately – _not _personally; and whose existence Yukimura Seiichi wasn't aware of.

Rin wouldn't really care about that overachiever. He could be the undisputed_ captain_ of the nation's number one boys tennis team for _six _consecutive years; _top_ of their cohort during the same period of time and the person who rejected the student council's _six_ attempts at recruiting him as the _President_; it wouldn't have mattered to her if not for his excellence in all areas. All areas inclusive of Art and to her luck; he was her rival in the same field – watercolour painting.

While she'd love to say otherwise, it was hard to deny that Yukimura Seiichi was superior to her both in terms of skills and talent.

And it annoyed her; because his focus was on tennis and not Art at all.

**~x~**

The fateful day they finally crossed paths after being in the same school for six years was a summer afternoon during their third year in high school.

Rin was summoned to the first Art room by her Art teacher Tatsuki-sensei after the school bell rang. Some of her classmates sent her envious looks; it was no secret that Tatsuki-sensei favoured Rin just about as much as she favoured the 'Child of God' in her other class.

Because of that, Rin was quite a frequent visitor of the first Art room which was usually reserved for staff use. The very act of entering the room was tantamount to receiving first class honours during graduation.

And Rin felt that she deserved every bit of that honour.

"Just a moment more, Rin-chan," Tatsuki-sensei beamed at the sight of one of her best students and said, "He should be here soon."

While Rin didn't know who Tatsuki-sensei was talking about, she nodded obediently. "Yes, sensei."

A moment later, _he _entered the room. Closing the door behind him, Yukimura made an elegant bow and said crisply in that alluring voice of his, "I apologize for the wait, sensei."

All of a sudden, Rin felt that the cerulean skies outside of the window had been distorted into a dull griseous blue.

"Not at all, Yukimura-kun," Tatsuki-sensei waved him over, "I have something to tell the two of you. I presume that both of you are aware of the upcoming National Youth Watercolour Painting Competition, right?"

Rin's face glowed when Tatsuki-sensei mentioned about Japan's most prestigious competition for her field and age group; she even momentarily overlooked her distaste for Yukimura. This was what she had been waiting for; an opportunity to debut on the national scene and from here, she'd go on to the international stage to make a name for herself in watercolour painting.

Taking a deep breath, Rin replied with an almost uncharacteristic urgency in her tone, "yes, sensei."

On the other hand, Yukimura's enunciation of the same phrase could be described as indifferent in comparison.

"The school had tasked me to nominate two participants, you see, and I thought that the two of you would be the most suitable candidates for this competition," said Tatsuki-sensei with a bright smile, "if not for the prize, do it for the experience." While saying that, Tatsuki-sensei's eyes clearly flitted over Yukimura whose lips parted marginally.

The unsaid words were swallowed back to his stomach where they belonged.

"Thank you for presenting me with this opportunity, sensei. I'll do my best," Rin bowed formally with a sombre expression on her face.

"I understand, thank you, sensei," Yukimura nodded briefly. He didn't look too hyped up; but anyway the 'Child of God' had always been known from his serenity and composure.

"Ja, I hope you two can work together. There's a lot of things you could learn from each other," Tatsuki-sensei clapped her hands together and stood up, "the school has granted special permission for the two of you to use the first Art room as and when you like from now till the end of the competition. Please make full use of it, alright?"

_She'd rather be shot. Now._ Rin grimaced inwardly. Stealing a glance at the blue-haired boy who stood next to her, Rin saw that his brows creased almost inconspicuously. Neither of them was pleased about this arrangement, but for very different reasons.

Probably, he was concerned about this competition taking up his _precious _tennis time. Rin would have snorted if they weren't still in the presence of Tatsuki-sensei.

"Yes, sensei," no matter the reluctance of the two, there could only be one response to their enthusiastic teacher.

"I'll be leaving now, feel free to start on your work. The theme of the competition is 'Dream', and the closing date for submission is the 12th of the August, which is a little over two months from now. I'll be looking forward to your works," Tatsuki-sensei checked her watch, "ahhh… I'm running late, good bye, Rin-chan and Yukimura-kun!" Tatsuki-sensei waved frantically and left in a hurry.

Without a common person between them, Yukimura and Rin were left in an awkward silence – which didn't last for long, because Yukimura, with his immaculate gentility, broke into a smile at Rin and courteously introduced himself.

"It's a pleasure meeting you, I'm Yukimura Seiichi."

Rin didn't return his smile, merely stared – or rather, _glared_ – at him with a frown of disapproval. Both the expression and emotion on her face were things he was unfamiliar with.

"You should have turned down the offer if you aren't serious about it."

Bright blue eyes stopped blinking for a moment; perhaps surprised by her brusque manner. Normally, when you greeted a person and introduced yourself, you'd expect to receive his or her greeting and name in return; not a sharp, critical sentence almost sounding like a reproach.

"You don't love watercolour painting. You should let those who actually _want _a future with watercolour painting take your slot instead," Rin blurted out bluntly. They were still strangers, true, but _forgive her_ for she had these words bottled up in her for far too long already.

There was a flash of something through his eyes. Rin wasn't too sure what it was. Was it anger? She'd be angry too if a stranger lashed out at her for no apparent reasons. But it didn't feel like anger, it seemed like something deeper and more profound, like wry amusement and something else.

(Only after a long while did she realize that that look in his eyes at that time was called compassion. The 'Child of God' pitied her; a poor, reckless soul who has yet to realize the crushing force of Reality.)

"You're right, I don't love watercolour painting," Yukimura agreed easily, "but selection in Rikkai Dai is purely based on merits and nothing else. Opportunities aren't given to just anyone, they have to be earned," said Yukimura, harsh words spewing from his lips in a chillingly warm, gentle voice, "the only credits able to earn you opportunities in Rikkai Dai are skills and abilities. _No other would do_."

Hard work and passion without concrete skills weren't going to do a person any good in a school like Rikkai Dai Fuzoku. Not that Yukimura felt pity for them. They chose the best, so they'd have to play by the rules of the best. And the number one rule in Rikkai Dai was that only the strongest will climb to the top. All others will be buried within their countless fellow… _failures_.

It occurred to Rin that the air has descended several degrees Celsius and summer seemed almost like winter now.

Before the frigidity reached the core of her bones, Yukimura smiled again, magically melting the invisible ice in the room which was nearly converted to an ice cavern, "Forgive me, I was carried away for a moment."

_Carried away?_ He sure went to a faraway land. A place she didn't think he'd tread.

"Now, may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

"… It's Fubuki Rin," said Rin unwillingly.

She didn't want to respond to that, but something in Yukimura made her feel _compelled_ to reply. It felt like a sin if she didn't.

"A beautiful name," said Yukimura as he extended a hand, "please take care of me."

Albeit unwilling, Rin bit her lips and accepted the handshake. Tatsuki-sensei really left them with little choice. The moment she gripped the beautiful youth's pale, broad hand, Rin felt as though she had just signed a Life or Death contract, and she was getting the short end of the stick.

"Please take care of me too."

**~x~**

Inspiration. _Inspiration_. Where did her muse and endless fountain of inspiration go to? As the final deadline ticked near, Rin was getting more and more antsy. Art was something you couldn't do without inspiration. Even though Tatsuki-sensei didn't pressure her, Rin felt pressured by herself. Dark, cobalt blue eyes stared at the rough sketch she had just done and without any hesitation, Rin snatched it up and crushed it. Too commonplace. Something like a dancing ballerina wasn't going to earn her even a consolation prize in the national competition. Not even bothering to look back, Rin effortlessly threw the paper ball behind her and landed a perfect shot in the wastepaper basket.

If someone like her who never did sports aside from the compulsory PE lessons in school could achieve perfect aim, it was clear enough how much training she had done within the span of a month.

She was killing too many trees. But anyway, artists had always been killing trees.

"Have you decided on your subject for the painting, Fubuki-san?" a velvety voice inquired from her left.

Twitching, she replied gruffly, "no."

The sight of Yukimura Seiichi still pricked her, but Rin wasn't so sure if she despised him anymore. She still didn't like how he could outperform everyone in Art despite his _blatant_ lack of passion for the subject. Yet, aside from his overwhelming ability and talent (which she grudgingly admitted wasn't his fault), Yukimura didn't do anything to warrant her contempt.

In fact, much to her disdain… she found herself gradually forming a somewhat amiable relationship with him.

Chuckling, Yukimura graciously offered her the book which he had been browsing previously, "Have you seen 'The Art of Renoir'?"

"Pierre-Auguste Renoir who was famous for feminine sensuality?" Rin raised a brow judgmentally. She wasn't half as conservative as most Japanese, but even so she found studying paintings of nude men and women a rather disturbing idea.

"Perhaps you might find something in his work," said Yukimura, an endearing smile on his face, "take a look at it."

Though sceptical, she accepted the book and proceeded to flip through the pages. Moments later, Rin looked up, face somewhat tinted with a red hue and she lashed out at Yukimura in an accusatory tone, "you… I don't see any inspiration in these!" She hurriedly shoved the book back to Yukimura, nose screwed up in disgust.

What was his purpose in bookmarking the 'nude' chapter? Even when she loathed him the most, she didn't think of him as a closet pervert!

"Art is a broad field without clear boundaries and definitions. The greatest beauty of and reason why people are fascinated by Art is the limitless possibilities an artist could capture. Be it beautiful or devastating, be they cheerful or dreadful, an artist can create all that, and instill within their audience the emotions they wish to create," said Yukimura, "at times, people think of Art as the bane of morality; because some artists use nudity to convey their ideas. Not that I'm in support or against it in particular; but I feel that for an artist, everything is a medium, tool and mode of communication. You can't avoid certain subjects and topics in Art, because the essence of an artist is infinity."

The red on Rin's face turned several shades darker. Not of anger, but of embarrassment.

"Pierre was an artist who stuck true to his cause and stood unwavering. For his entire life, Pierre had been painting. Even when he was on his deathbed, he never discarded his paintbrush. I think, painting must have been something else to him, not just his livelihood," Yukimura smiled warmly, "you should know his feelings better than me, Fubuki-san."

"Why do you _not_ love Art?" Rin asked in a demanding tone.

To be lectured by the one she chided for his lack of passion, Rin's pride was bruised.

"I think devotion is called 'devotion' because you dedicate yourself fully and whole-heartedly to only one thing," replied Yukimura, "I chose to devote myself to tennis, therefore… watercolour painting could only be a pastime activity."

"I… see," Rin managed a quiet response.

Yukimura smiled at her, stirring up a strange vortex of unknown things within her.

She didn't know how to describe this feeling she was having. Something more than merely being impressed, yet not to the extent of awestricken. Along with that was something else. Something even more indecipherable and exotic to her. It was a foreign feeling, and the truth of it was only revealed when everything was too late.

Perhaps if time could rewind, she'd inhibit the feeling before it got out of hand.

**~x~**

_It got stronger._ At times, it seized control of her actions and dominated her body over her brains. While Rin had a general aversion towards people and interpersonal relationship, that didn't make her clueless about human emotions.

_Infatuation._ A voice at the back of her head sneered; almost ridiculing her. _You're infatuated with Yukimura Seiichi._

Absent-mindedly attacking the canvas – almost savagely – with her paint brush to relieve herself, she paused only when an ethereal voice addressed her from behind.

"Fubuki-san."

She flinched, turned around and her cobalt blue eyes crashed into a pair of ocean-blues.

Serene as always; his expression, cool blue eyes gently bore into her own. _His eyes are fascinating_, they said, _you could get drowned in them if you weren't careful._

Ops, perhaps she should have paid more attention to the excited giggles of the girls she always passed by in the hallway; she felt overwhelmed by a mere gaze.

"Yukimura-san," she greeted him, voice a little strained.

There was a brief, lingering silence between them.

Felt like it was back to two months ago when they freshly got acquainted. What was this imposing tension in the air?

"Your art has changed, Fubuki-san," Yukimura observed, tone impassive, expression unreadable.

She whipped her head in the direction of the canvas which she was venting her frustration on, and her eyes widened. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

The hasty strokes vaguely resembled something – _someone_, a certain blue-haired someone who was in the room.

Though sketchy, it was beautiful – and very… different. _Emotional_, they called it in Art, an elusive concept which only the finest pieces could display.

"It's just a few practice strokes," she tried to brush it off; but she sounded unconvinced by herself.

"Fubuki-san's passion for Art is admirable," Yukimura smiled, a curious shine in his eyes, "for you, if you devoted yourself to it, you'd go far in watercolour painting."

Somehow, Rin's heart clenched uncontrollably when he said that.

"You should dispose of it and start on your piece for submission, Fubuki-san. Time is limited," he preached gently, "I have to head over to the tennis courts now. Should you need any help, please feel free to ask."

She stared hard at him, incredulously, finally finding the answer to the discomfort in her heart.

After sending her a nod; so innocent like he wasn't aware of the growing tension (she'd have thought that he didn't, if not for the clear message he conveyed in his words); Yukimura daintily stepped out of the room.

Once again, Rin was left alone in the first Art room which had become her safe haven for the past six weeks.

_Devotion. _He spoke of devotion again, decorously wording a rejection along with it. She wasn't surprised that he was aware of her feelings – Yukimura Seiichi was the perceptive 'Child of God', a know-it-all. He probably knew it as soon as those unusual feelings sprouted; now that she recalled, he had been gradually distancing himself from her for about two weeks now.

If not now, he would've probably said it sooner or later too.

Actually, he had made himself clear from the beginning. She was just too foolish (or _stubborn_) to realize it.

"_I think devotion is called 'devotion' because you dedicate yourself fully and whole-heartedly to only one thing."_

Yukimura chose to dedicate himself to tennis, which was why he didn't love painting, and why he wouldn't _ever_ consider a relationship.

Rin's blank blue eyes stared at the unfinished piece before her eyes, and she suddenly found the outline of the subject so well-defined that it felt almost too _harsh_. It was unlike her art style. Despite her satirical glands, Rin's way of painting had always leaned more towards the hazy kind, like the nebulous clouds rolling in the skies. Clarity was Yukimura's forte, not hers.

Dropping her palette and paint brush on the stand next to her canvas, Rin walked out of the Art room without turning back.

This particular piece of hers, she knew it was never going to be completed.

**~x~**

The result of the competition was expected yet unexpected. Neither Yukimura nor Rin was placed in the competition.

Tatsuki-sensei was shocked when the results were released. Having half a mind to interrogate the two who were her pride, she eventually didn't when she summoned the two of them to her office.

The tension was tangible in the air. It was too obvious to miss. They were at that age, weren't they? Perhaps it was her fault for allowing them to work together, thinking that they were mature enough to handle themselves. Rubbing her forehead, Tatsuki-sensei sighed and sent them off without saying anything.

And leave the room they did, without exchanging a glance between them. Like there was a unanimous agreement made prior to the impromptu meeting, they headed for different directions after exiting through the door.

Yukimura to the left, Rin to the right. One towards professional tennis, the other towards professional art.

It was a portrayal of their future which lied ahead of them. Parting at a forked road, treading down two skewed lines.

**~x~**

"_America's Peter Hurbens is holding in there, he's got it, will he be the first to make Japan's undefeated 'Child of God' drop a game? He fires off – oh! Yukimura Seiichi received it! A return ace! They are at match point now, is Yukimura Seiichi going to continue his flawless winning streak? Peter Hurbens serves, and – ah! Yukimura Seiichi did it! He defeated his last opponent and emerged victorious in the French Open!_"

"Look, look, he's on the TV again!" Saya grabbed Rin by the arm and cried out in excitement. The 22 year old professional tennis player was currently the pride of Japan; being set on the road to achieve the legendary 'Golden Slam'. "Isn't he just so amazing?" Saya fussed over the handsome male who was standing on the podium marked '1' and bowing to the camera.

"… He's a lot less amazing than you think, Saya," Rin remarked dryly, cobalt blue eyes filled with bitterness, and some sort of quaint sentiment.

"Why'd you say that, Rin!" Saya pouted, and her eyes brightened, "oh right… you graduated from the same high school as him, right? Do you have some exclusive insight about him?"

"No, why'd I?" Rin denied curtly, "I only know that he's the 'Child of God', that's all."

_Lies. She knew so much more. _

And the memories she shared with him were precious treasures hidden at the depth of her brain, heart and soul. Truth to be told, she did resume hating him for about a month after the incident in the Art room, and after a while… the feeling just died down.

Looking back now, Rin didn't know if she should feel sorry for herself or him.

Because the most sorrowful thing in life isn't being rejected, but the inability to fathom yourself and your own emotions.

* * *

I was ambivalent about the epilogue-ish ending. Teetering between leaving it hanging at the Art room scene to leave it up to the readers to figure out the tragedy and explicitly writing it down, I eventually decided on the latter. Sighs. My first tragedy and it's about Yukimura.


End file.
